


Chocolate and Hugs

by Servena



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chocolate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, M/M, Making Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: Liebgott was the only person Webster knew who smoked angrily, exhaling the smoke into the cold air like it had done something to personally offend him.[Set after Webster's return to Easy Company.]





	Chocolate and Hugs

Webster found Liebgott behind the desolate building they were currently occupying. He was sitting on the remainder of a small brick wall and smoking a cigarette. Most people looked relaxed when smoking, even slightly bored, taking their time and savoring the taste. Others were anxious, taking deep breaths, desperately waiting for the nicotine to kick in and take the edge off. Liebgott was the only person Webster knew who smoked angrily, breathing in quickly and exhaling the smoke into the cold air like it had done something to personally offend him.

Everything about Liebgott was angry these days. Liebgott always had a temper, everybody knew that, but there also had been a sense of humor that had been lost in the time he had been away. Now he just looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes and streaks of dirt across his pale face, black hair longer than ever and sticking up in all directions because of the many times he ran his hands through. But underneath the surface there was a simmering rage, threatening to boil over every time someone so much as looked at him.

Recently the target of that anger had mostly been Webster.

He didn’t have any illusions about things still being the same as they had been when he had left, but he hadn’t expected… this. Bastogne had almost broken the company, so many faces he had come to know were missing, some on a premature leave to the States, others in a coffin or their remains spread out over the cold ground of a Belgium forest. The ones that were left were permanently changed in a way that he was not. But somehow Liebgott hurt the most with his open hostility that could barely mask the amount of pain he was in.

Liebgott didn’t look up as he stepped closer. Everybody with half a brain cell would have interpreted his posture as the opposite of an open invitation, but Webster settled down next to him anyway, mindful to keep more than an arm’s length of space between them because the last thing he needed today was getting punched in the face. Liebgott shot him a glare, but didn’t say anything.

Slowly Webster unpacked the chocolate bar that he had managed to scrounge up earlier, paying two packs of cigarettes for it, which was extortion at the best of days. He broke off two pieces and put one of them into his own mouth, marveling at the sweet taste and the way it melted on his tongue, before offering the second piece to Liebgott.

For a moment he expected that Liebgott would just ignore it, but then he threw the stub of his cigarette away and quickly snatched the piece of chocolate from his fingers. Webster hadn’t thought it possible to chew angrily, but Liebgott could.

They went through half the chocolate bar like this before Webster worked up the nerves to speak. “I’m sorry”, he said, accompanied by holding out another piece.

“For what?” Liebgott spit out.

Yes, for what? Reasonably Webster knew that he had nothing to be sorry for, except that there had been a growing feeling within his chest over the last few days that he did. “I just am.”

“Well, you can keep your lame excuses”, Liebgott snapped. Webster noted that this apparently didn’t extend to the chocolate, which Liebgott took from his extended hand without looking at him.

He sighed. He could just get up and leave him there to sulk, but then they’d never resolve this tension that was growing between them. The rest of the company hadn’t exactly been overjoyed to see him again, but they’d get over it. Liebgott might not, not if he didn’t make this right. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t in Bastogne.”

He could hear Liebgott inhale sharply. For a moment neither of them spoke, then Liebgott asked: “Where the fuck were you?”

“I was in the hospital”, he said, but it really did sound like a lame excuse.

Liebgott huffed. “So was Toye. Or Guarnère. All back at the line within days. Hell, the fucking Kraut’s shot me in the arm and I didn’t spend ages hanging out in some fucking aid station!”

‘You didn’t even have a proper aid station’ was at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t say it. “I wanted to wait until they officially discharged me.”

Liebgott’s voice was as sharp as his bayonet. “Oh yes, Webster, doing everything by the book. Even if that had meant being reassigned? Jesus Christ.”

He didn’t want to talk about how long it had taken him to get back to Easy Company. “Well, I wasn’t.”

“And how lucky for us.” Liebgott shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Three fucking months”, he mumbled.

Webster watched as he tried to light himself another cigarette, but all his lighter managed was a few weak sparks. “Shit!” Liebgott yelled and threw it across the courtyard where it hit a rusty bucket with a clang.

He reached into his pocket and offered him his own. Liebgott took it out of his hand like he’d rather take off a few fingers as well. Webster waited until Liebgott had taken the first drag before he spoke again. He noted that Liebgott didn’t hand the lighter back. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

Liebgott didn’t answer him, but the look on his face told him all he needed to know.

“I’m sorry”, Webster repeated, but this time his voice was softer. “For not getting back earlier.”

Liebgott still didn’t say anything, but the expression on his face softened a bit.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway”, Webster added after a moment of thought.

This time Liebgott’s voice was so quiet that it was barely audible. “It would have for me.”

Webster looked at him, the way he was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed. He looked defeated, and that was so wrong that he didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything and he didn’t think either, he just scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Liebgott’s skinny shoulders, pulling him into a hug. At first Liebgott struggled against his grip, but Webster knew that if he really didn’t want to be held, he’d fight him off with ease and give him a broken nose for his trouble, so he didn’t let go.

They sat like this for what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. After a while he felt Liebgott relax in his arms, though his body was still trembling slightly and he could hear his ragged breath in his ear and feel his fingers dig into the front of his uniform.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered.

“Will you quit saying that?” Liebgott said, his voice muffled by the fabric of Webster’s jacket.

Webster smiled slightly, safe in the knowledge that Liebgott couldn’t see it. “Only if you say that you forgive me.”

He could feel Liebgott exhale, his breath warm against his neck. “Jesus fucking Christ.” There was a moment of silence. “If I do, will you let go of me?”

Webster paused as if to think about it for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

Liebgott groaned loudly, but after a heartbeat he said: “Fine. I forgive you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Webster asked as Liebgott sat up and ran a hand through his hair, which didn’t really improve its messy state.

“Next time I’m gonna break your pretty nose”, Liebgott said, but there was no heat behind it. “Now”, he shot him one of those wry grins Webster had come to miss lately, “you got any more of that chocolate?”


End file.
